


Ain't Nothin' But A Stranger In This World

by xbedhead



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Canon Compliant Backstory, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Missing Scene, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22882798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xbedhead/pseuds/xbedhead
Summary: As Mac works on the wedding invitation list, her suggestions bring up bad blood that Will would rather leave buried.
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Ain't Nothin' But A Stranger In This World

**Author's Note:**

> This falls in the space midway between the proposal and the Boston Marathon Bombing. Title comes from Van Morrison's _Astral Weeks_. Lyrics at the end. 
> 
> I’m playing fast and loose with the timelines for Will’s background based on little snippets here and there from the show. Take note of the warnings, though nothing referenced here is any more graphic than what is mentioned on the show. 
> 
> Unbeta'd. Would appreciate your thoughts and con-crit as always.

“Billy?”

He barely looks up from last week’s copy of _The Economist_. “Hnnh?”

“Do you have a moment to talk about invitations?”

He folds the magazine in half with his index fingers and peers warily over the edge at her. “If by ‘moment’ do you mean a somewhat inane decision that will likely devolve into a two-hour debate on cotton, coconut or porcelain? A debate, I might add, in which I was _not_ a willing participant.”

She gives him an open smile as she turns to face him from where she’s placed herself cross-legged on the floor in the space between Will’s two massive leather couches. “No, I promise.”

“Traditional serif versus bulky serif?”

She slaps his bare foot gently, prompting him to drape his magazine over his chest and give her his full attention. “It’s _chunky_ serif, but no, it’s not about that.” She carefully slides the notecards with names hastily scribbled on them away from her feet, freeing up the space she’d used to begin mapping out the seating arrangements for the dinner. “Have you given any more consideration to inviting Eddy?”

Will looks at her for a moment, expression indecipherable, before rising from his reclined position and pushing himself off the couch. “Why would I do that?” he asks over his shoulder on his way into the kitchen, hissing when his ankles pop and crackle with the movement.

“Because he’s your _brother_ ,” Mac calls after him, stretching a bit so she can see him over the bar separating the kitchen from the living room. “Because you _said_ you would. Will you bring me some water, please?”

A few minutes later, Will returns, passing a glass of water to Mac and taking a seat at the far end of the couch, can of Dr. Pepper in hand. After a long moment filled with each of them taking a few sips of their drink, MacKenzie starts with, “I just think that –” before Will cuts her off.

“I don’t want him there.”

His expression is closed, but Mac pushes, seeing if she can find a way in around his edges. “So, nothing’s changed?”

“It is what it is, MacKenzie,” he sighs. “I’ve paid for his rehab. _Paid for it again_. He’s the _same_ as he ever was.”

“Have you _spoken_ to him? Or is Kathy still running interference?”

He scoffs at the question, hands gesturing absently before landing on, “Wh-why would I? About what, Mac? About _what_?”

“I don’t know…I mean…I thought maybe **_some_** time in the last few years you would have at least _talked_ to one another.”

Will makes a half-hearted effort at flipping through the magazine once more, replying distractedly, “He’s made his choices.”

“He has a di _sease_ , Will.”

“Okay, Mac – what are we gonna talk about, huh?” Will demands, volume rising as he tosses the magazine to the opposite end of the couch. “I have – there’s nothing. _Nothing_. ‘Hey, Eddy – how’s the Dodge running? Oh, they _repossessed_ it? Sorry to hear that.’”

“Will –”

“Or, y’know, maybe we could talk about politics – no, wait. He doesn’t _follow_ politics anymore – _not that he ever did_ – because he can’t _vote_ because _he’s. a. **felon**_.” With that, Will pushes himself to his feet once more, soft drink in hand, and walks purposefully into his – _their_ – bedroom, ignoring Mac’s calls after him.

The benefit of neither of them owning much aside from books, clothing and a few personal effects meant that packing out their respective apartments could be done relatively quickly. Neither of their furniture sets would go well in the brownstone they’d decided on last week and they both had an unspoken agreement that they wanted their new home to hold representations of their life _together_ , not the life they’d had in isolation from one another. So, while Mac had already sold everything at bargain prices to some folks at ACN or donated it, Will had opted to keep his stuff and eventually rent his penthouse apartment as fully furnished. The rental management company indicated that it would boost the price by several hundred and it saved him the trouble of getting rid of any of the tasteful, yet impersonal, decor.

MacKenzie had sublet her apartment until her lease was up in three months and her things had been carted into the elevator by a sweating Jim and giddy Will in a single trip. With the exception of her suitcases, her favorite coffee mug, a goose down throw, and a few books she had strewn about the living room and bedroom, all of her boxes remained packed and neatly tucked away in one of the guest bedrooms that she used to get ready in the mornings.

Will removes the lid of one of the four half-full boxes in the bedroom and begins carefully organizing a few of the older tomes and his baseball glove inside before turning to the window seat-cum-bookshelf. _Decision Points_ – read once, and that was enough; donate it. _Arsenals of Folly_ – worth another read; into the box it goes. Keith Richards’ _Life_ – _definitely_ keeping. _Assassins of the Turquoise Palace_ – an impersonal Christmas gift he’d never gotten around to reading; into the box.

No.

 _Well_ …

He hears Mac pad to the doorway, but she says nothing after a moment and he continues with the book sorting, unperturbed.

“Maybe he’s gotten some help,” she eventually begins, her voice gentle as she leans against the doorframe. “Maybe he’s –”

“They never change, Mac,” he sighs, dropping a biography on Robert Johnson harshly into the box. “ _Never_.”

“Billy, you know that’s not true.”

He faces her then, his expression cutting and certain. “I know it **_is_** true. I know it from my insides out.”

“You don’t want to at least _call_ him – maybe see how he’s doing now?”

“Y’know – why is this so important to you?” he demands, abandoning the chore and facing her, hands posted on his hips, immovable. “ _God_ , I’m-I’m **_happy_** to have you fill the entire church or-or-or garden or the fucking _Rainbow Room_ with every single person you’ve ever known. Why does _he_ need to be there?” By the end of the tirade, he’s pacing back and forth in front of the bed, gesturing out the window to the city below them.

“Because he’s your _brother_ , Billy,” Mac explains patiently, taking a step toward him. “I don’t want to push you into _anything_ you don’t want to do – and I’m _sorry_ this has gotten such a reaction out of you; I didn’t do it intentionally, I _swear_ it – but…it’s our _wedding_. Your _sisters_ and your niece and nephews will be there. It’s a time for us to celebrate and be with _family_ and people we care about.”

“ _You’re_ who I care about. We can elope right now,” he grinds out petulantly, returning to his books.

Mac crosses her arms and shifts her weight to her left leg, waiting, while Will does his best to ignore her.

He hadn’t had many friends growing up. Outbursts from his unpredictable and abusive father kept social calls to a minimum. Though he excelled at sports – and everything he put his hands to, really – being two grades ahead, working on the farm, and taking as many college pre-requisites on the weekends as possible while still in high school didn’t lend for many meaningful relationships. Even though he got several scholarships, it wasn’t any better in university where, between pitching practice and the weight room, fall ball and spring season, he’d had to work to maintain his on-campus housing and cover the remaining costs on his packed course load.

Law school was a blur and, considering he gained only a few legal mentors and handful of other Assistant ADAs jealous of his conviction rate while in Brooklyn, Adam Roth was one of the first friends he ever had. Luckily Adam was genuine and smart and thoughtful and didn’t seem to notice that Will, while intelligent and obviously going places, was socially stunted. He can’t count the number of times Adam served as his wingman – or declined his reciprocal offers to cover the role. Something about Adam not wanting to intimidate the girls by having too many guys crowd around, but Will suspects now that it had more to do with his dreadful attempts to break the ice and…well, subsequent lack of any skills in getting the conversation to progress if left to his own devices.

The White House had given him the confidence he’d needed to move forward and put some more space between him and Nebraska. But that didn’t mean he’d gotten any better at cultivating friendships. Besides, he hadn’t spoken to Adam since they’d lost the Republican debate.

Surgically excising people from his life had become a science.

If he needed another recent example, he only needed to look at what he’d done to Mac.

He wedges the last book inside the box and hefts it off of the shelf and onto the floor. He shifts his shoulder gingerly and presses against a knot of tension building at the base of his neck. “Look,” he begins quietly, “I…I know that you’re…”

“That I’m what?”

“You’re…tryin’ to _fix_ things, but – j-just _trust_ me on this one, Mac. Leave it.”

Later, when they’re in bed, he drapes his arm over her side and pulls her tightly against his chest before burying his face into her sweet-smelling hair. After a long moment, when her breathing has evened out and she’s relaxed into his solid frame, he whispers, “This is supposed to be the happiest days of our lives, Mac. My brother beats his wife and cons my sisters into giving him money to support his habit. I don’t want him anywhere near us.”

He feels her nod against his chin and reach around his arm to squeeze his wrist. “I understand,” she whispers gruffly. “I do. I won’t ask it again.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by another brief moment in the show that stood out to me. In 3x01, _Boston_ , Mac mentions that she’s got nine bridesmaids, so Will needs nine groomsmen. Charlie, Jim, Elliot and Don are who has been decided on so far, with no others mentioned (except a half-hearted nod to Brian Williams). A few curious omissions - one being Adam Roth, the RNC guy played by Adam Arkin in season 1. Mac knows about him and he was obviously good friends with Will (besides the times he was high and after successfully proposing to MacKenzie, seeing Adam at ACN is the only time I can find Will smiling in seasons 1 & 2). But he's not mentioned (because he's been forgotten about, but this is a little bit of a Fix It in that regard). Secondly, Will's brother. We know his relationship with his father was fractured, which is to be expected, but we know precious little about his younger siblings. One might _assume_ that a brother would normally be in the wedding party, or at least the running, but there’s not even a discussion on the matter. 
> 
> This is my take on what the situation might be and how he and Mac have already come to an agreement. 
> 
> _Astral Weeks_  
>  If I ventured in the slipstream  
> Between the viaducts of your dream  
> Where immobile steel rims crack  
> And the ditch in the back roads stop  
> Could you find me?  
> Would you kiss-a my eyes?  
> To lay me down  
> In silence easy  
> To be born again  
> To be born again  
> From the far side of the ocean  
> If I put the wheels in motion  
> And I stand with my arms behind me  
> And I'm pushin' on the door  
> Could you find me?  
> Would you kiss-a my eyes?  
> To lay me down  
> In silence easy  
> To be born again  
> To be born again  
> There you go  
> Standin' with the look of avarice  
> Talkin' to Huddie Ledbetter  
> Showin' pictures on the wall  
> Whisperin' in the hall  
> And pointin' a finger at me  
> There you go, there you go  
> Standin' in the sun darlin'  
> With your arms behind you  
> And your eyes before  
> There you go  
> Takin' good care of your boy  
> Seein' that he's got clean clothes  
> Puttin' on his little red shoes  
> I see you know he's got clean clothes  
> A-puttin' on his little red shoes  
> A-pointin' a finger at me  
> And here I am  
> Standing in your sad arrest  
> Trying to do my very best  
> Lookin' straight at you  
> Comin' through, darlin'  
> Yeah, yeah, yeah  
> If I ventured in the slipstream  
> Between the viaducts of your dreams  
> Where immobile steel rims crack  
> And the ditch in the back roads stop  
> Could you find me  
> Would you kiss-a my eyes  
> Lay me down  
> In silence easy  
> To be born again  
> To be born again  
> To be born again  
> In another world  
> In another world  
> In another time  
> Got a home on high  
> Ain't nothing but a stranger in this world  
> I'm nothing but a stranger in this world  
> I got a home on high  
> In another land  
> So far away  
> So far away  
> Way up in the heaven  
> Way up in the heaven  
> Way up in the heaven  
> Way up in the heaven  
> In another time  
> In another place  
> In another time  
> In another place  
> Way up in the heaven  
> Way up in the heaven  
> We are goin' up to heaven  
> We are goin' to heaven  
> In another time  
> In another place  
> In another time  
> In another place  
> In another face


End file.
